Aftershock III soaring up high
by Evergreendusk
Summary: Tarik wasn't just anybody. He was a feeling, a sound, a song and the good half of Lishay. And now he's gone.
1. Soaring Up High

_**Prologue**_

"He's dead, he died saving me."

She had to hold back her tears.

He had been dead for so long.

Then why was he the only thing she thought about? She was honestly dreaming about someone who died heroically, who sparred millions of lives, who is now, in heaven, near, about nowhere.

She was daydreaming about her past.

She had remembered seeing him for the first time, the way he had stared at her, the way he would try to sneak a smile when he thought she wasn't looking. He was the only person she ever liked, the only one whom she _will_ ever like.

She had remembered the first time he ever said she was beautiful, when she had crying in the cramped corner of Greenhaven. He was there for her, when she left everything behind.

She had remembered how he sang to her, songs, handwritten by him, sung by his own voice, to the tune of his harp. All the way until midnight, where the moon would shine in the sky, and his voice would echo, a beautiful sound, as continuous words flew out of his mouth. He was the song stuck in her head, for as long as forever lasted.

She had remembered how he had kissed her, for the first time. It was like all the pain from her history rushed out of her, leaving only memories of him, his face, his words and his voice. He was the edge of her perfection, the good half of her.

And then all the good pictures of him turned into a heartthrob mess, all tangled up, as hard as she tried to forget, she knew it would never happen. All the times he said something sweet, all the times he embraced her, it was all gone. And she now wished he had never loved her.

Lishay never thought knowledge was good, ever since she met Tarik. Ever since that, she knew, somehow, that he would be taken away, by his own promises. And what she knew was right, although she was unwilling to accept it.

 _ **-In her dreams-**_

" _Tarik, are you there?" asked little Lishay, running up the grassy hills, in the fields of Greenhaven. "It's not funny anymore! I said we're done with hide and seek!"_

 _Suddenly, a sleek black shadow grabbed Lishay's little waist and yanked her to the sky._

 _She was soaring, up high, in the air._

" _What do you want?" asked the shadow, generously. "I can give you anything."_

" _I want Tarik back. I want him down from heaven, I want him here."_

 _The shadow snickered. "You mean you want to change history? Okay_. As long as you want to. _"_

 _Then, she was inside a prison, a sword held against her throat. "Wha- what?" She took a glance around her. She was present Lishay, twenty-year old Lishay. She realized the shadow was the one trying to kill her._

" _You said you wanted Tarik alive. Now, Rollan is dead, you don't know who is the real Devourer, and the Conquerors have won. Still want Tarik? I don't think so. But, oh well, I have to answer every wish, no exceptions."_

 _Lishay was shaking with regret. "I- YOU DEVIL! YOU TRICKED ME INTO THIS, I WILL CURSE YOU!"_

" _Oh, right, one more thing, there's no turning back."_

Lishay awoke the sound of her own breath. The way she had been thinking about Tarik, trailed, even in her sleep.

That was the thing people didn't understand about him. He died a heroic death, but he's still dead! No matter how someone died, they're still dead. Dead, not with her, not with anyone, but dead.

And, just somehow, that someone had to be Tarik. Tarik, who was a feeling, a word, a song, and even part of her.

Tarik, whom she had to get revenge on, for the pain he caused her.

 _ **Yes! Aftershock III soaring up high!  
I wasn't going to make an Aftershock III, but, whateves.  
~Alicio**_


	2. Zerif

_**So. That was a really long wait. I have a bunch of excuses to give, but I'm going to be nice and just not say anything.**_

News had just arrived of Rollan coming back. Olvan was blabbering about how awesome Meilin was at saving people, but Lishay didn't bother. _If only someone_ but _Rollan cared about Tarik._

No one seemed to notice anything about Tarik's death. It was as if everyone lost all their memories of Tarik. Tarik was the sole reason the Four Fallen were alive! They were who he had died for, who he had _chosen_ to die for. It was a mistake, that. _No,_ she reminded herself. _He did it for a reason._

It felt hard to concentrate on her breakfast. She decided to take a small walk outside.

" _See, you want to see him,"_ said a voice.

Lishay wiped around. "Who's there!?"

" _Hear, you want to hear him talk. See, you want to see him. Hear, you want to hear him..."_

"Show yourself!" she shouted.

A figure dressed in a fancy robe smiled in front of her. He appeared to be Niloian. He chanted the phrase for eternity, making her jealous, making her remember something she wanted to forget.

"WHO ARE YOU?" she yelled, finally.

The figure seemed to notice her and turned to look. "I thought you'd never ask. I am Zerif. I will give you one thing you want."

Lishay did have to say, he did look like a genie with his hat and robe. But this sounded too familiar. _Not Tarik._ "Anything? Even if my wish is merely impossible?"

"People dream of impossible wishes all the time. Give it a try, and I'll promise you I will give you exactly what you want."

"No," she just said. "No, I don't want anything. I'm happy with my life."

The man Zerif sneered. "Happy? Don't you want Tarik?"

Lishay hesitated. "I do, but-"

"Oh, you're too scared. I'll tell you what," interrupted Zerif, "I can make your dreams come true, your life better and you, not mourning over someone who shouldn't have died."

"No, I don't want you to. Now, please leave before I lose my temper."

Zerif shrugged and went on his way. There was something that probably caught his eye, as he turned around again to glare at Lishay. He had seen the hesitation in her eyes.

Lishay didn't move. She tried not to lift her eyes off the boring grass in Greenhaven. It didn't work very well. Her eyes finally looked up to him. "What?"

"Oh, I'm just making sure that you're sure."

She stared at him for a moment. Was he telling the truth? "I'm sure! I mean I'm not sure, no wait, I'm- I don't know anymore."

Zerif grinned. "Okay. What do you want?"

"I want Tarik back alive."

 _ **I just realized this Aftershock thing has a trend thing. It all was related with a dream and a wish. Ha, and I didn't even realize until now.**_

 _ **~Alicio**_


	3. Trapped

_**Trading Winners? Seems very unlikely… Also, if you didn't read Aftershock I or Aftershock II, YOU HAVE TO READ THEM RIGHT NOW! I said you have to read Aftershock I and Aftershock II BEFORE you read this one. Why are you still reading? I know you're reading…**_

All of a sudden, there was fire, circling around Lishay. Fire was her least favorite thing in the world. _No, I have been tricked._ She turned around frantically, trying to find a way out, a space between the infinite scarlet-red flames.

She wanted to yell someone's name, anyone's name. She wanted someone to get her out of those cackling waves of heat. She wanted nothing more, at this moment, than to turn back time, to the past, where the war had not yet begun, and freeze time right where the war started. She wanted to stop, to just give up, to die, and not care about the past present and future.

But she remembered what Tarik had did, die, but he did care about Erdas' future. He died _for_ Erdas' history, her present, and even what comes after that. If she died that day, that night or sometime after, she decided her death would have a good reason.

She closed her eyes, and stepped upon the endless fields of ash.

"Greenhaven, what have you become of? You were once the mother of all gardens, of forests, but now? You are just a victim of arson, and one of my regretful wishes representatives. And you, Lishay, you get what you want, in exchange for this price. _You're welcome,_ " said a voice behind her.

" _Zerif,_ " hissed Lishay, as if the man's name was the dirtiest word on the planet. "You _tricked_ me!"

"I certainly did," he just said, as he vanished off into the shadows.

Lishay pounded the dirt and ashes with her feet, trying to run away, until someone called her name. It was almost like an echo, a wave of confusion, or a memory. _A memory…_

"Lishay! I said, I got you!"

She spun around on her heels and ran. She didn't know who to trust, or what to do, at the moment, but just to run, somewhere, anywhere, out of disbelieve, distrust, and dishonesty. She stood up high on the hill, looking back to the mess she made, the disaster she caused, all because of Tarik.

Maybe thing were meant to be how they were.

Maybe Tarik was meant to die.

And maybe, so was she.

X~x~X

Meilin woke up upon the cold metal hard ground. The room had no window, nor candle. The only light was the one coming from a distant hallway, remote and silent.

"Rollan, wake up!" she yelled, shaking the boy violently.

Rollan coughed and looked up. "Tell me you didn't just drag me to the dungeons to try to kill me, and you ended up losing the key-"

"Shut up! I don't know where we are, or where Conor and Abeke are."

"You sure you have absolutely no idea where we are?" asked Rollan. "Because if you don't know where we are, I guess I'll just continue sleeping."

Meilin concentrated for a second, trying to get the familiar place to fit inside her head. "No way… Rollan! Go pick the lock!"

The boy shrugged and picked up a stick from the ground, shook the lock and it swung open, easy as that. Meilin sneaked out, waiting for him to follow.

The hallway was dim with only a couple of candle every ten meters or so. The walls were coated with fine red velvet, stained with a darker shade of red, blood, no question. The echo of their footsteps were all Meilin heard, on top of the eerie silence. It _sounded_ like silence. Behind her, Rollan was barely making any sound. It was _her_ footsteps, clacking against the wooden floor, she realized. _Damn it. I'm wearing high heels,_ she thought.

"What are you doing here?" yelled a small voice.

Meilin and Rollan turned a corner.

"I know you're there. There's no use in hiding."

Meilin nodded at Rollan. "Who are _you_? It seems pretty deserted out here for a teenaged boy to just wander around alone."

owMMMeilin wondered how Rollan knew it was a kid.

"Fine, you caught me. My name is Alix."

 _ **I was sick for a week. Sorry I couldn't update.  
~Alicio**_


	4. Answers

Conor kicked at the wall, uttering nothing but a single word. _Wish._ He wished he could escape, that fire wasn't set to Greenhaven that someone- anyone- would save him. How he even got here in the first place was a mystery, but where the others were was a greater mystery. Years of experience with _lost stuff_ told him to retrieve what was lost before it was gone.

But what if he got it all wrong? What if he was the one who was really lost, the one who didn't know what to do next? And what if, _what if_ , he was the last one here, the one the others forgot about? How was this true?

At this point, he didn't know anything anymore.

"You awake, Conor?" asked a voice, so small, he barely heard it. There was a pause, no one said anything. "You better be." The door slide open to reveal a boy in a black leather suit. "There you are, Conor. I _knew_ you would be awake."

Conor let out a sharp gasp. "Shane. Shane the Devourer, leader of the ruthless, useless, merciless, and _defeated_ Conquerors," hissed Conor. "I knew you would come for me one day. I knew you were jealous. Jealousy is your priority."

Shane's gaze turned directly on Conor, as he picked up a knife and launched it to him, missing by only a centimeter. He smiled that vicious Devourer smile, the same smile that tricked Abeke into liking him, and the same smile that dug its way through the thoughts of the Conquerors, forcing them to remember him. _Shane_. _That is your name but not who you are._

"If I were you, I would shut my giant mouth. Just saying," said Shane, smiling.

Conor nervously kicked at the door, well aware of Shane's glaring. He kicked and punched the door, letting the thick metal bars resist his blow, leaving a faint mark on his fingers. He gave up and sat down at the prison wall, blood on his hands.

When his mind cleared, he realized Shane was gone. He breathed out, and thought of no one but Abeke.

Abeke had helped him, so many times; she had sided with him, especially after Shane trapped Conor on the ship, tricking Abeke. They had helped Meilin rescue Rollan. She had been with him this whole time. What did Shane want with her again?

He tried to think _how_ on Erdas he was trapped here, how Shane managed to get them in the Stetriol prison. The only path in his memory was fire.

Conor stood up; the huge and heavy chains on his right leg weighted him down. He tried to look out the small window in his cell, as something in his mind went _click_.

 _Lishay,_ he thought, _Lishay knows the answer._

X~x~X

Rollan looked at the boy next to him. He never thought he would encounter one of the Devourer's allies, and then crumble to the ground, right away, Meilin next to him.

"So, I don't think I properly introduced myself, did I?" asked the boy, grinning at Rollan and Meilin. "I told you my name. I told you I got caught, but fifty percent of that is a lie. _I_ didn't get caught. I'm pretty sure it is you that is caught, from the power of the Conquerors. Now, I guess I have to feed you the bile or something like that, because that's the rule around here, ever since the Conquerors won."

Meilin and Rollan stared at each other in surprise. The Conquerors didn't win; it was the Greencloaks that won.

"Okay, wait," said Rollan, "my head is exploding. Since _when_ did the _Conquerors_ win?"

Meilin stepped in, saying, "No way did you guys win. _There is no way_!"

The boy Alix sighed. "We were winners from the beginning. I don't have much of the story, though. Something about a guy named Warik or-"

"Tarik," corrected Rollan.

"Whatever. Anyway, if you two really did have a memory lapse, ask your former Greencloak Lishay. She'll have all the _answers_."


	5. Falling by the weight of his own weapon

Meilin stood face-to-face with Alix.

She could hear Rollan muttering under his breath. She could feel him reaching for her hand. She could sense the tension between his words. She felt so _aware_ of him.

But then she was also aware of her surroundings. Everything felt different. Even the air, it wasn't familiar. _What if the Conquerors actually won? What if we were all just living a dream before, we woke up, and suddenly, the world was like this?_

 _Or what if someone else changed the world in a way we could never change back?_

"Alright, quit wasting time talking. Guards, seize them."

Alix pointed a sword in their direction. Four men appeared from the other direction, trapping them.

Before Meilin could react, Rollan tripped Alix, making the Conqueror boy drop his sword. Rollan kicked his head, knocking Alix unconscious. Rollan picked up the discarded sword.

The guards came running towards them.

"Rollan-"

"Run, Meilin, run for your life," he said, pushing her.

"I'm not running away. I'm not a coward. And plus-," she said, taking the sword, "- you know who's better at fighting."

One of the guards kicked at Meilin, but she made a wild leap, just in time to both dodge the kick and slice the guard down with the sword. _One down, three more to go._ She gladly stabbed another one when he came raging with a long sword. With the corner or her eye, she saw Rollan kick another guard in his midsection, making the man crash into a wall, gaining Rollan enough time to kick his skull, knock another Conqueror unconscious. But the last Conqueror still stood, welding a fierce morning star in one hand, with a mace in the other.

The huge Conqueror grunted, swinging the great spiked ball in a full three-hundred and sixty degree circle. Meilin jumped over it, the action reminding her of a game she used to play, not with a metal spiked ball, but with a jump rope. Meilin saw Rollan struggle, but he caught himself. They looked at each other and nodded.

They ran.

The huge man tried to chase them, but with a morning star (Meilin guessed it weighed at least a ton), it wasn't _that_ easy. She heard a thud, looking behind her on instinct. She smiled as she saw the guard fall by the weight of his own weapon.

 _How ironic,_ she thought, while running for her life.

 _ **Conor's POV**_

Conor gave a dry chuckle as Shane game in the room.

"What do you want, Devourer? To kill me? Go right ahead, and see what Briggan would do to you if you do."

Shane raised an amused eyebrow. "I just- I don't know. I wanted to ask you some questions."

"And what," started Conor, "makes you think I'll answer them honestly?"

"Oh, you'll be surprised," reassured Shane. "Anyways, ever since we won this war-"

"WHAT?! SINCE WHEN DID YOU AND YOUR PETS WIN THIS WAR?!"

Shane looked shocked. "Okay, you'll definitely be surprised. I think you might have had a memory lapse. You know Rollan? The one that bonded with Essix?"

"Yeah…"

"You know when he died-," said Shane, but he was cut off.

"NO WAY DID ROLLAN DIE!"

Shane sighed. "That was what I was going to ask you about. Rollan died. But I think I saw him in the same cell as Meilin. What do you know about that? What do you remember?"

Conor paused. His instinct was to tell the truth right away. It was a problem. He sighed and followed that small problem. "We won the war. Rollan didn't die. Tarik saved his life. We went to Stetriol. We battled. You helped us defeat Kovo at the end. But you ran away."

"What do you know about Abeke?"

At that, Conor fell silent.

"Was she dead?" asked Shane, frantically.

Conor shook his head.

"THEN WHAT HAPPENED TO HER?!"

"She almost killed you. She hated you."

Shane had nothing to say to that. Conor didn't think Shane would get mad at him. Abeke had once said he rarely had a temper.

And he trusted Abeke.

But Abeke was wrong.

 _ **Rollan's POV**_

Rollan followed Meilin as she turned a corner.

Rollan stopped. He almost choked. Meilin did the same. He couldn't believe his own eyes. A single prison cell stood right next to the door. Inside the prison cell were two figures: Shane and _Conor._ It wasn't the fact that they were in the cell, but the fact that Shane held a knife to Conor's throat.

Rollan gasped.

He realized he made too much noise. Shane turned to look at them.

"Take one more step, and I will cut his throat!"


	6. Lapse

_**The Return was so good! If you want spoilers, PM me!**_

Rollan didn't dare move an inch. He held his breath, worried if he made one sound, Conor would die. But he knew eventually, he had to do something. Meilin did something first.

"Shane," she whispered. "Tell us why we're here."

Shane turned his focus towards them. He dropped his knife. "It's true, isn't it? The four fallen don't remember anything."

Rollan didn't make a move.

"The Conquerors have won. We've taken over the world, while you failures had a huge memory lapse. You two-," Shane said, nodding towards Conor and Meilin, "-are my captors. And bounder of Essix, I do not know how you are here, as you were killed by my uncle, general Gar."

Rollan rose up his hand and breathed slowly. He made a sound in his throat. "I'm dead…?"

Silence.

He saw Meilin stare at him with her brown eyes, scared to take her eyes off him, worried that he might slowly disappear if she did. But would he? If Rollan was dead in this world, might he come to the reality again? Would he fade to dust if he stayed here? His mind was a cluster of horrifying thoughts, all gathered in the same place, targeting the same person.

He was slowly dissolving. And it was he destroying his own life, having no choice, no way to stop his very own mind.

On the spur of the moment, Meilin drew the guard's discarded sword, advancing on Shane. " _Where is Abeke_?" she demanded, each footstep louder than the previous one. She reached the door of the prison, kicked it open and charged on Shane.

Shane backed up, realizing he had hit the prison wall and had nowhere else to go. He dodged Meilin's swipe. Before Meilin could swipe again, Shane ran to his knife and picked it up.

Rollan decided to help. He ran inside the cell, attacking Shane unexpectedly from the back, kicking his shin, causing him to drop his knife. Rollan let Meilin take care of Shane, and instead focused on freeing Conor. He lugged out Conor's gag and threw it on the prison floor. But Conor's feet were chained to a heavy ball of iron. He glanced over his shoulder to see how Meilin was doing.

He saw Shane up against the wall, Meilin holding up the sword at his neck. Rollan picked up the piece of fabric used as a gag and gagged Shane. He reached inside Shane's pockets and found a key. Running up to Conor, he unlocked the chain with the key and, with Conor; he dragged the chain up to Shane and locked his ankle to the chain.

"Now close the door and lock it."

"But then how will we know where to find Abeke?" asked Conor, clearly worried about her.

Meilin licked her lips. "We'll find her ourselves. Don't worry about that now."

With Meilin and Conor, Rollan ran.

X~x~X

Conor had Shane's knife.

He wondered if it contained some type of toxic chemical used for torturing random people Shane found on the streets of Stetriol for fun. Conor thought Shane would be that type of person.

After Shane and Abeke's battle at the Evertree, Conor thought Abeke would finally be his. But then, Abeke set out in the middle of the night with Shane, taking Conor with them as his captor. He wanted the staff of cycles. Conor wondered if Shane had _any_ good inside him. It made him very angry that he was using Shane's knife. He instead handed it to Rollan, who took it with gratitude.

They busted the door open, then finding themselves surrounded with guards. Conor released Briggan. Rollan and Meilin did the same, and in a flash of light, they appeared.

Conor had no weapon. He ran left, found a stick, and used it to battle a guard.

Even though the guard had a mask, Conor was sure he had seen the guard somewhere else. He was determined to remove the mask on the helmet. He wasn't sure how helpful a stick was in situations like this.

The guard had a small, thin blade, a short bow and a quiver of arrows. The guard lunged at him with the blade. Conor punched the guard in the arm, disarming the blade. He picked up the kife and pretended to slice the guard's arm, but instead went up and knocked the helmet aside.

Conor gasped.

Lishay.


	7. The truth of Hetry

**_I'm finally updating this, not any other story because I am literally too shocked of what happened (even though it was my prediction) at the end of The Return. (Warning: contains bad pun) I'm updating this, because I was shocked when I read book three FOTB and this is Aftershock III!_**

Just as Meilin thought she slashed the last Conqueror painfully across the chest, she heard a yelp from Conor. Both she and Rollan turned to him. Conor didn't so much yell in pain, but more in shock.

Meilin froze.

The Conqueror Conor was fighting was Lishay. "No… What has this world done to us…?" Meilin screamed, staring.

"What do I do?!" yelled Conor. "Tell me!"

"Knock her out. Don't kill her."

"Guys," snapped Rollan, "we don't have much time. Shane will call more guards soon. LET'S GO!"

Meilin was shocked. "Rollan, I thought out of all of us, you are the one who gets sorrow and pain the most. I thought- I just thought you would understand."

"I understand it's just that maybe we should get Abeke and get out of here before I disappear."

At that instant, Conor turned his head towards Rollan. "Your hand… It's-"

"Disappearing," Rollan finished. "And now so is my arm. Reality is catching up, and I know you can save me."

Meilin ran to Rollan. "RELEASE ESSIX!" She yelled, jerking his collar violently after she reached him.

Rollan did as told, and the bird flapped out before Rollan disappeared. All Meilin heard before Rollan disappeared was the faint whisper of goodbye. Meilin picked up his dagger. _It's all I got now. I might as well use it._

"Meilin-"

"Shut up, let's go!"

Meilin and Conor ran out of the small courtyard they were in, and instead out in the fields. A noise came from behind them. Meilin looked back, but only got a glance of the situation. One glance was more than enough. About half a dozen Conquerors ran out the door in full leather armor, probably more than ready to kill. _If only Abeke was here, all of those damn Conquerors guards would be dead._ But Abeke wasn't here. Meilin knew, and she would soon find her.

And she would free Rollan.

Meilin ran away. She and Conor ran at about the same pace, usually, but not this time. Anger gave her more fuel to run more rapidly, with the flames of rage hot on her heels. She sped past Conor, not daring to look back. Behind, she heard a yell, one of a familiar tone.

One of a man.

Meilin knew who had yelled. It's been so long since she heard that voice. It seemed like forever.

Tarik.

X~x~X

Conor tried to catch up to Meilin in vain, but had no such luck.

He tried to concentrate on his legs, making them move faster but he had too much on his mind.

Too many people's value was depended on him. Too many people were on his mind. Abeke. Rollan. Lishay.

Shane.

He knew it wasn't possible that the Conquerors had won, but somehow, he knew it had to be. Shane was definitely not lying. Even though the boy was a talented liar, he knew, somehow, that Shane wasn't lying. He didn't seem like he was; everyone but he, Meilin and Rollan had such a memory.

The memory of the Conquerors winning.

Conor shuddered, shaking the memory away. He looked up to Essix in the sky and wondered if Rollan would ever return.

"This way!" shouted Meilin, pointing left. "I think I see the shore."

Conor would have imagined Rollan saying something snappy, like _'You think?'_ or _'Right, and that helps up a lot because Stetriol is an ISLAND!'_ But Conor was Conor, so he followed Meilin, not complaining or snapping about it.

"There's a boat over there with three paddles," Meilin said, pointing.

Conor looked at where Meilin was pointing. It was much true; a green and pink boat, floating with a paddle. "Three," Conor realized, "as in one for me, one for you, and one for Abeke."

"Abeke isn't here!"

Conor's mind was blurry, his head feeling dizzy. "Oh yeah, he's Shane's queen." Conor didn't know why he said such a thing.

Meilin squinted at him, gave him a confused glare but shrugged it off. "Stop your sarcasm."

"I- I'm sorry, I just- My mind isn't clear, exactly."

"You're just tired," Meilin said, calmly.

But Conor didn't think it was that.

"Or maybe you're just missing Rollan. Missing his stupid sarcasm. I wouldn't want to admit it to anyone, but I miss him too."

But Conor didn't think it was that, either.

In fact, Conor wasn't being sarcastic at all. He didn't know what was up with him, but it was almost like his mind was starting to fade away. He tried to blink into presence, but it was like someone was slowly pulling his mind away from him.

He saw names in the clouds. He saw three names, all written one atop of another. There was Abeke, Rollan, and another name, one that wasn't familiar to him.

 _Hetry._

 ** _OKAY, THIS IS EXACTLY WHY YOU SHOULD READ AFTERSHOCK I AND AFTERSHOCK ii BEFORE THIS. I mean, you could just not, and this whole story would make absolutely no sense to you what-so-ever._**

 ** _I can't update for nine days because of a school fieldtrip tomorrow to the other side of Canada. That's why I'm updating today._**

 ** _~Alicio_**


	8. Last One Standing

**_UGH Fanfiction glitch so here I am again. Hopefully it doesn't glitch this time._**

Meilin took a glance at Conor. He seemed completely dazed, barely knowing anything. And that was bad, even for a person as stupid as Conor. Meilin wanted to slap him in the face or something, but Conor wasn't Rollan. She decided against it. For now. No promises for later, though.

Meilin climbed onto the boat, waiting for Conor to follow her. She had no such luck.

"CONOR!" she yelled. "Conor, get on this boat and help me paddle for Erdas' sake, literally!"

Conor didn't move. He stood his ground, not even moving anything.

"CAN YOU HEAR ME, CONOR?!"

Conor finally blinked into presence. "Shane has power… He will kill us… We will-"

Meilin slapped Conor across the face. "You hate Shane, remember, Conor? You're jealous of him for Abeke! Stop talking like that!"

"You became like this after Gerathon killed Rollan, haven't you? I understand. I'm sad Shane took Abeke away from me. He made her become queen. And she's happy about it, according to Shane."

"SHUT UP, CONOR!" Meilin yelled. "Stop being useless and start helping me!"

Meilin was lucky. Conor slumped onto the boat, barely sitting up.

"If Shane catches us, he'll kill us," Conor chocked, barely

 _He's gone, too…_ Maybe Rollan was right. Maybe reality _would_ catch up, sooner or later. Maybe Meilin's memory would be erased, too, replaced by the treacherous memories of the Devourer winning. Meilin shivered. That was one thing she didn't want happening.

But if Rollan disappeared and Conor's memory was blurry or gone, that only left her and Abeke. And as far as Meilin was complied, Abeke was pretty useless, considering she was trapped inside Shane's lonely sad castle or whatever.

Basically, she was the last one standing. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, but she didn't like it one bit.

No matter how brave a person can be, they could never be fearless. It was a fact.

Meilin started paddling. Without Conor's help but with his weight, everything became a lot harder.

Meilin paddle at a decent speed, but not decent enough to fend away the Conqueror ship which could catch up any minute. Essix soared above them, keeping a lookout. She wished she could let out Jhi, but obviously could not. All she could do was paddle. Paddling was not one of Meilin's favorite sports.

Suddenly, Essix let out a bloodcurdling shriek. It was a warning.

Meilin turned around to get a glance of what was going on. All she saw were tiny dots. _Conquerors._ Luckily, they didn't see her yet. _If I hide, they'll probably go. If I go, they'll probably catch up to me._ She had to hide.

She paddled behind a large rock inside the ocean. It seemed like a good place to hide and wait for the Conquerors to leave and check another place.

She could do mothing but wait. Once in a while, she would peek from behind the rock to see if the Conquerors were gone. This time she peeked and she had no such luck.

They were getting closer.

Meilin crossed her fingers, hoping they would leave. She didn't dare peek again, afraid they might see her.

Essix shrieked again. Meilin's luck was over. They had spotted her. All she could do now was paddle and go. She did exactly that, even if she knew her chances of surviving.

A ship appeared beside her. Her luck was definitely over.

"Meilin! Come aboard right this instant or you will do it the hard way!"

Meilin climbed the ladder the captain dropped. She had no hope of outrunning a ship.

But she didn't bring Conor with her. She hoped he could swim back to shore or something and rescue himself. She fended off Essix. She had to go alone.

An arm grabbed her and pulled her inside, slamming the door.

Meilin gasped at the person. She hadn't seen him in forever.

"Meilin, you're lucky we rescued you in time," the man said, coughing. "Where are the two others, Conor and Abeke?"

It was Tarik.

Meilin had no idea what to say. It seemed like so long ago since she had seen him.

She blinked into presence. "TARIK OH MY GOD IT'S BEEN SO LONG!"

Tarik didn't seem to get what she had said. "I asked, where is Conor and Abeke?"

"Abeke is Shane's queen or something and Conor-," _oh crap_ , she thought, "-is floating around on a boat where I left him…"

Tarik bit his lip. "You left Conor in the middle of an ocean."

"Listen Tarik, I thought you were the enemy so I left Conor, hoping that he would escape by himself…"

"It's too late to get him back," Tarik said. "The Conquerors have him now. Look out the window."

Meilin lifted the curtains and looked back to the rock, where she was.

Nothing.

Conor was captured.

 ** _HAPPY ONE DAY LATE CANADA DAY! And to all you Americans out there, happy two days early Independence day!_**

 ** _~Alice (Yeah that's my actual name.)_**


	9. Threatens, Bribes, Zerif

_**I may or may not be obsessed with 5 Seconds of Summer.**_

"So, uh, Tarik?" Meilin asked, unsure.

"Yeah?"

"Do you, by any chance, know someone named Lishay?"

Tarik turned to her. "When we went to get the Slate Elephant, didn't we all meet her?" He raised an eyebrow of confusion.

"I was kidding," Meilin lied, awkwardly. "I'm sorry, really sorry."

Tarik shrugged, but something about the gesture didn't seem so genuine, but fake, so fake it made Meilin's mind wander to the face Conor had struck with his fist, the face hiding behind a Conqueror mask.

Meilin questioned who began this madness.

Meilin questioned if her memory was real.

Meilin questioned where Rollan was.

"Tarik, tell me you remember!" she suddenly shouted. "Tell me you know the truth!"

"I'm sorry, Meilin. I don't know what you're talking about."

Meilin knew she should stop. She knew, she knew it oh so well, but instincts were always against her knowledge. "Rollan! What do you remember about him?! Abeke! Conor! _Lishay!_ "

"Meilin," Tarik comforted, calmly. "I told you what happened to Rollan. I'm sorry."

She let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

She went downstairs to the cabin Tarik had prepared for her on the tiny ship. The cabin he had prepared for _them._

Beside her hammock were two others, one for Abeke and one for Conor. _And one empty space for Rollan._ She sat in the empty corner of the room; head buried in her hands, enjoying the silence, the eerie, eerie silence.

Once, back in Zhong, she had come across a child running in the streets, running from something that wasn't possible to run away from: his memories. He had nothing in his hands and nothing on his back. He had tried to get rid of the reminders of his memories, by going as far as possible from those reminders. His parents were desperate, crying after the child, trying to catch him.

And she had never seen the child again.

Meilin told herself the child was wrong, told herself she had to face her problems with a middle finger instead of trying to win an impossible race against them.

But an impossible race was exactly what she had to win, against Shane. And of course, not just Shane, but this new reality.

 _But how was this all possible?_ Meilin asked herself. _Whoever started this?_

She had a conversation with Tarik before about the Greencloaks, one conversation she didn't like.

It went something like this.

' _Where's Olvan?'_

' _Dead.'_

' _Where's Lenori?'_

' _Dead.'_

' _Where are the remaining Greencloaks?'_

' _Almost dead.'_

' _Is there anyone left other than those corpses?'_

' _Yes, there's you, me, Conor, half of Abeke, and Guy.'_

' _Which guy?'_

' _That Guy.'_ Tarik had pointed behind him.

Meilin had some controversy with Guy. Meilin had learned that Guy liked rhyming things. But not like some epic poetry that some Goth writes out of a single, stranded tower prickling themselves with a thorn, but more like rhyming things for absolutely no reason.

On the bright side, he did do exactly everything Meilin told him to do.

"Hey, Guy," she said, once she saw him approaching her.

"Shut up!" Guy yelled back, apparently in tears.

Meilin glared at him. "No, you're supposed to say- Whatever."

Guy giggled for no reason.

"Shut up!" she yelled in the southern-Amayan's face, even though she knew he wasn't saying anything.

Guy left.

"Wait!"

Guy came back.

But then Meilin saw Guy's face and it made her angry.

She shooed him away again, then called him back.

She repeated the process a couple more times before biting her tongue to make him stay.

"First of all, Guy, why aren't you dead?" Meilin knew it wasn't such a polite question, but Guy probably had no sense in other people's morality.

Guy blinked.

Meilin guessed why the Conquerors didn't take him.

"Never mind. Just tell me what you remember from the time the Conquerors won."

Guy blinked again.

Meilin turned around, realizing it was probably impo-

"You wouldn't believe me," Guy croaked. "No one did."

Meilin turned back around. "Go on, tell me. I just wasn't sure if you knew how real people conversed."

Guy nodded. "You see, everyone remembers the Conquerors winning, but I don't. Everyone thinks that Rollan died, but I just don't believe them. Before, everyone knew that the Greencloaks won, but now, all of a sudden, everyone just goes like, ' _Oh, the Conquerors won? Yeah, that sounds about right._ ' But they didn't!"

It wasn't impossible. It was _important._

"You said _before._ Before what?"

"The fire. Before the fire."

Meilin put one finger in the air to silence him. "What fire?"

"Greenhaven. It just randomly burned down, just like that. On a casual day, right after you, Rollan and Lishay came back."

"You know! You really do!" Meilin exclaimed. "How old are you?"

"Eleven."

"I thought you were fifteen."

"I'm actually three hundred and seventy-seven, but can't we ignore that?" Guy said. "I had to act stupid all my life, so don't question me."

"What's your spirit animal?" Meilin questioned.

"YOU JUST QUESTIONED ME!"

"THEN ANSWER IT!"

Guy ran to a corner and huddled there. "You scare me."

"I SCARE _EVERYONE_ SO JUST _ANSWER THE QUESTION_!"

Guy frowned. "Fine. But you still scare me." He pulled up his sleeve, and on his wrist was a tattoo of a dove. He released her with a flash of light. "Her name's _Gloria_."

"But- but you're from south Amaya. And- and in your native language, Gloria either means glory or-"

Guy smiled cheekily. "The other meaning is what I named Gloria after."

"And people say I'm mean," Meilin muttered, half to Guy, half to herself.

The dove flew to Guy's shoulder. "Gloria gives me reincarnation powers, which also improves my memory by _a lot._ "

"Oh yeah, Guy, I remember what _you_ do. I know what you're talking about with the Greencloaks winning the war and all that," Meilin said.

"I knew you would remember."

Meilin sighed. "How? And if you know; why did Conor, Rollan and I remember, and not others?"

"Not just Conor, Rollan and you. Abeke also remembers. And not just Abeke. There's someone else."

"Who is it?"

Guy didn't answer. Instead, he just said, "You four remember because Hetry can only cast a spell on ones that had not seen her presence before. You have all, whether you know it or not. She already cast a spell on one of you, and that was Rollan. Rollan's mind cannot forget the real past. But I heard you say that he was gone, is he not? Because Hetry created a new reality, and he had to catch up. Conor forgot, as I have heard you say to yourself. Conor forgot because he _believed_ the new reality. Hetry can manipulate a person if they believe this reality. And she did. And as for Abeke, I do not know."

"Who's Hetry?" Meilin asked.

"The Manipulator. The Rose. We have many names for her," Guy responded.

Meilin sat on her own hammock. "How do you know so much about her?"

"I cannot tell you that yet."

"Then tell me who else knows. You said there was another person other than us and the other four fallen who knew the old reality. Who is it?"

"I don't know. I just sense someone else knowing."

Meilin tipped her head back, wondering when she started to believe in magic. "Then why did Hetry create the new reality?"

"Threatens. Bribes." Guy paused for an instant, stroking Gloria. " _Zerif."_

 _ **Shout-out to Google Translate for Gloria's name!  
Hm… I haven't done Abeke's point of view yet. I wonder when I'm going to do that.  
Oh yeah, and this isn't the same Guy as in Walking on Erdas and as in Legendary Rebel. Although they will all be famous poets on day, they still aren't the same person.**_

 _ **~Alice**_


	10. Perspective of Magic

_**I want to ship people for a living. Wait… What does that have to do with Aftershock III? Why does everything I write here have nothing to do with the story? What's the point of my author notes? Why do I spend half a day on my Instagram astrology account? Why did I write that? Why am I still writing these pointless questions?**_

 _ **Anyways, happy first birthday to Immortal Guardians/Fall of the Beasts.**_

There is no such thing as magic.

 _Entry 513: Magic is the impossible. Should something become possible, it does not define as magical no more. Should people who believed in magic, they shall not have to believe in magic no more. What becomes reality is not defined as faith._

It was maddening.

 _Yet some people do not believe in reality. Majority of people do, as it is our nature._

It was wrong.

 _But the people who do not, do we label them as sick, wrong, or do we just assume they are wrong? But what if we were the ones who were mistaken? What if we were living in a dream, a mistake?_

It broke the rules.

 _I am starting to question this reality we are supposedly living in. Who made this? What caused our lives to go this way? Why-_

Abeke put the book down. It was maddening her, it was wrong to her, and it broke the mental rules for her. _There is no such thing as magic,_ she reminded herself. _There was never such thing as magic and there will never be such thing as magic._

Were there rules to magic? Were there any limits, any way too far beyond the boundaries? If there were, who made them? And what did the person who wrote the journal have anything to do with magic? Who was this person, anyways? And why was this journal in her drawer?

Abeke wanted to stop asking pointless questions.

It wasn't exactly possible.

She stuffed the journal under her mattress, hoping that no one would find it. If she ever managed to escaped, she had to take the journal with her. She knew she had to. There was something so important in the journal, even though she had not known what it was. She knew that she would find out when she escaped the prison others called a luxury.

Perspective.

She couldn't escape.

In Abeke's head, the voices had been playing with her all day long. In Abeke's head, escape had been threatening her all night long. In Abeke's head, magic had filled any possible thought for anything else. It was good, though, that she didn't have to think about anything else.

 _Perspective._

X~x~X

Meilin's perspective towards magic had four simple rules.

One: it had no beginning.

Two: it had no middle.

Three: it had no end.

Four: it broke the rules.

X~x~X

 _Entry 514: One person in this world holds the magic. No one else knows where it is. That person is forced to keep a secret. But of course, secrets aren't secrets until they spread. My secret is exactly this; my sister holds the magic._

 _I have found out today, and I am writing this in my journal to keep note of it, and so that the person who will read this may know this, and do what's best with the information._

 _I have said enough, even if it may seem that I have said too little._

 _ **This was so short. I'm so sorry, but I have really bad eyes and it's a really bad time, so, uh, HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY FOTB AND IMMORTAL GUARDIANS!**_ **  
** _ **Also, The Burning Tide is out in exactly a month from now, so, uh, that's great.**_

 _ **~Alice**_


	11. Enemies, Traitors and Poison

_**I may or may not have started this chapter two weeks ago and just didn't finish it and forgot about it.  
I also have a project that I will totally start today.**_

Conor was held captive in the Conqueror's strongest prison. In fact, he forgot what had made him want to escape in the first place.

Was it Rollan? Certainly not him. It was all just so impossible. Was it Meilin? Certainly not her. It was all just so unbelievable. Was it the Traitors? Certainly not them. It was all just so forgettable.

Conor had tried to clear his mind. No, not clear his mind, he corrected himself, but fill his mind. He tried to fill his mind with possible and impossible situations. What had happened? How did it happen? Who made it happen?

Was it Rollan? Meilin? The Traitors?

Was it _Hetry_?

 _Hetry_

 _Hetry_

 _Hetry_

Who was this Hetry? Why was she even the slightest bit significant in Conor's life?

Why was this Hetry the main subject for guards to chat about? What did Alix, Karmo and Devin know about this Hetry? Why did-

Conor forced himself to stop asking pointless questions.

"Looks like our prisoner will learn his lesson," said the guard Conor recognised as Devin.

Conor didn't snap back.

Another guard, one named Alix, according to Meilin, dragged Devin back to the place he was supposed to be. "Don't ever forgive our hot tempers," Devin told Conor, as he was dragged into place. "I'd rather have you as an enemy."

The phrase sounded familiar, but Conor couldn't quite place it in his head.

X~x~X

"You're supposed to be underground at the moment," Guy had told Meilin each morning. "You are supposed to be searching for something."

Each morning, Meilin had replied, "Just like how Rollan is _supposed_ to be dead?"

Each morning, Guy had replied with a maybe.

Each morning, the process went like this.

Each morning, except for this one.

"You're supposed to be above ground at the moment. You're supposed to hear good news, and then more good news. But the second good news is the news only _you_ consider as good."

Meilin didn't know how to respond to this one. Instead, she asked, "What's the news?"

Guy shook his head. "If I told you, the consecutives won't be happening this way. And if I told you, worse things could happen."

 _Just tell me_ , Meilin didn't say. "You want me to reverse this spell."

"Maybe, but that's not the whole point."

"Stop being so enigmatic all the time, you're making me sick!"

Guy crossed his arms, as if he were a spoiled child about to throw a tantrum. "You should stop being nihilistic if you want that to happen!"

Meilin laughed. "Don't ever try to use fancy words again; you're way too hilarious."

Guy sneered, as if he were starting that tantrum.

He turned around, muttering to himself. Meilin caught edges of the single minded conversation.

"...three hundred and seventy seven years of…"

"...people are so…"

"…Hetry…"

Hetry…

 _Hetry…_

Who was this Hetry, anyway?

How did she have ties to everything?

Meilin shook her head and went upstairs to where the non-Greencloak captain was hopefully driving the ship.

There were five people onboard the small ship. Tarik, who usually did some work around the place, Guy, who usually did no work around the place, Meilin herself, who usually commanded people to do work, some non-Greencloak crew, who was _supposed_ to do work, but was probably sleeping, and the captain, who was also asleep.

He was _asleep_.

"WAKE UP, CAPTAIN, LIKE WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DOING?!" she yelled. "You might crash, for Erdas' sake!"

The captain fumbled with the cup of water in his hands, spilling some on the wooden wheel and some in his mouth. "I-I'm sorry, I just-" The captain broke off in a cough.

The cough became violent, and soon, blood came pouring out of his mouth like a pitcher. He threw the cup in the air, Meilin dodging the water. Slipping off his wooden chair, the captain fell at Meilin feet, face pure white.

She checked his pulse, quickly.

It stopped.

Her first instinct was to call Tarik, and her second instinct was remembering that Tarik was dead, but her new instinct reminded her that Tarik was alive in this twisted world.

But she didn't call Tarik.

Instead, she thought about the water the captain drank. Carefully, she picked up the discarded cup he used, still a bit of water left in it.

The water was pure at first look. The smell and colour were both ordinary, but something at the side of the cup was not at all ordinary.

 _For captain_ , the note read.

She knew the crew member never labeled the cups they used. And she knew it wasn't his writing.

It was Tarik's writing.

 _Tarik poisoned the captain._

 _ **This chapter is short  
I am so very sorry  
Have no excuses**_

 _ **I love haikus.  
Burning Tide officially and legally came out today!  
It's also been a month since I updated this, so…  
~Alice**_


End file.
